A Thief's Honour
by Miss Les Paul
Summary: On hold: There's been a theft at the Mutant Research Centre. For Ororo Munroe it brings back memories about a certain Cajun thief she met when she was reduced to a child. What do this theft and those memories have in common?
1. Theft!

_AN: This story is a bit movie-verse and a bit comic-verse. I started writing this around the time when X3 came out, and decided that I didn't like it. So, no Phoenix, and no killing off Scott and whoever else is being killed off in it. This is just my take on how Gambit came to, if he really did, join the X-Men. I'm undecided whether to have him join, or just stay the loose outsider. Only time will tell._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, only the characters that are not canon.  
_

**A Thief's Honour**

**Chapter 1:** Theft!

"What do you mean information has been stolen?" Scott Summers waved his arms around wildly as he spoke to Professor Charles Xavier, who had given him the unfortunate news. Only a few minutes Xavier had gotten a call from the head researcher of the Mutant Research Centre (MRC) about sensitive information regarding the mutation of homo superior.

"Please be calm, Scott, and sit down." He gestured to the outraged mutant and Scott finally sat down. "No data has been destroyed and I believe with the help of our FBI insider we will be able to get a clear picture of the thief. And thus we'll be able to find him and secure the information."

"But what if we can't find him, then horrible things can happen when it falls in the wrong hands."

The Professor nodded. "I understand your concern, which I share. I will do anything in my power to grab hold of identity and location. I would ask you not to worry, how difficult this may be. I--"

"But he broke into the most advanced security systems in the world," Scott interrupted. "Without a trace! How are we able to find such a person?"

Xavier smiled slightly. "Yes, yes, you are right." He folded his hands and leaned his elbows on his desk as he look at Scott intently. "But I have already arranged a meeting with both our FBI contact and the MRC head researcher to sort this thing out. I will promise I'll do all I can."

Scott sighed and stood up again, scratching the back of his head, while his other hand sought his hip. "So," he said after a seemingly long silence. "Where leaves that the X-Men? Is there nothing we can do?"

"We are talking about a very professional thief here, as you undoubtedly have noticed,"

A soft voice from behind startled Scott and he turned around to see Ororo Munroe, the 'Weather Goddess', standing in the doorway of Xavier's office. "You cannot expect the Professor to have him captured with a snap of your fingers." As if to emphasise her words, she snapped her fingers once, slowly moving forward into the room to sit comfortably on the edge of Charles' desk.

"But you--," Scott started.

Knowing where his sentence would end, she interrupted; "Even with my knowledge of thieving, chances are very, very small we will actually find him and retrieve the information." Her serene face was drawn into a serious frown. "The X-Men can do nothing until we have a serious lead."

"So, we're going to do nothing." It was more a question than a statement from the ruby shaded man.

Ororo sighed, but said nothing. Neither did Charles.

Frustration obvious in all his movements, Scott turned and strode away. "That's great, just great," He sarcastically commented before closing the door behind him.

Ororo sighed and turned her gaze away from the now closed door, and sighed, seemingly interested in her finger nails.

"What is bothering you, Ororo?" Xavier asked.

There was a short silence, Storm thinking hard. "I have to think about--" she hesitated. "I have to think about when I was younger. I mean, when I was trapped in my child body. I do not remember much of it, but that is when I met a boy, a lot older than me, or so I thought that time. He saved my life." She frowned. "I do not know why he occupies my mind."

She bit her lip, seemingly trying hard to remember details. After she had been reverted back with the use of her own lightning the memories of all that happened in her forced childhood had slowly but surely faded. After mental examinations, the Professor had not been able to find anything wrong with her mental state. But he was not able to explain the memory loss.

Charles understood. "Yes, I remember you were talking about him when you first arrived here."

"He was a thief. It is he who taught me the fine art of thieving." Storm sighed. "He said he was a professional thief." Charles immediately understood what she was getting at and rolled his wheel chair towards her. Once at her side, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you like, we can also search for him in the meantime."

"But is that not a barrier in finding this thief?"

"My dearest Ororo, I have this distinct feeling that should we find this thief, we will find your friend."

_To be continued..._


	2. A debt to settle

**A Thief's Honour**

**Chapter 2: **A debt to settle

It was crappy hotel, but no one cared. Neither did the occupant of room 24. He had just come back from a long night and a shower was definitely in place. He got undressed and when he was just about to enter the bathroom, someone knocked on his door. Sighing heavily, he quickly put the white hotel towel, he had in his hand, around his waist and put on his sunglasses. Then he made his way towards the door. Opening the door, chagrin crept onto his features. He knew sooner or later he'd have to face one of his employer's lackeys. Preferably later, he thought. He didn't even know the name of this… secretly dubbing him Monsieur LeCoq. All in suit and slick, greasy hair. He shuddered.

Against his will he stepped aside and let the man in, closing the door behind him with a bang.

"What d'you want?" he snapped.

The man turned around ever so slowly and looked at him with a smug smile. "You know, Gambit, Dr. Essex isn't exactly pleased that you haven't contacted him after your little 'excursion' last night," he said, ever the smile on his face.

Gambit rolled his eyes. "Maybe if he gives more time, might've done it," he replied, not able to keep the sneer out of his voice. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed, not trying to conceal his annoyance. "What's the real reason?"

"I'm here to claim the disk."

"What disk?" He decided to play it dumb.

The man sighed. "The one with the information you were supposed to get."

"No disk," Gambit said curtly. "Well… not for you."

"What, you didn't get it? I thought you were a professional."

"I am a professional. Can't say about you." Gambit secretly grinned. It was always fun to 'play' word games with dumb people. But only with these kind of dumb people. He was fairly sure Monsieur LeCoq was turning red now.

"Why you… insolent boy! Do you know who you are dealing with?"

"Oui, and so are you."

Seething with anger LeCoq tried to calm down and this time answered with a very calm and positively, intimidating voice.

"Just remember you have a debt to settle. And the Doctor is not one to fool around with."

"Don't tell me 'bout it," Gambit muttered under his breath as he moved away from the door. It was not like he liked the fact that he was indebted to Essex. It was the price he had paid for getting back in control of his powers.

In full control now, LeCoq now pulled a yellow envelope out of his jacket and handed it over to Gambit.

"Your next assignment. You are to break and enter in the Xavier Institute of Higher Learning. Your assignment details are in this envelope." He turned to leave, but halted at the doorway, turning slightly with a grin.

"Don't screw up, now, will you?"

Gambit narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Try me," he snapped.

"Remember where your loyalties are, my friend."

"Well, it's not with you, homme. Leave now or I may be tempted to put a stick through your brains!" And with that, he slammed the door closed again, while muttering curses in French. He took off his sunglasses again, throwing them, together with the envelope on the bed and strode to the bathroom. A bad ending of a not so bad night.

_To be continued…_


	3. To catch a thief

_AN: It's been a while, I know. This huge writer's block is killing me. But suddenly yesterday, thanks to the encouragements of squeekness, I got another spurt and started writing something. It's not beta-read, but I wanted to put it up nonetheless. I hope you enjoy. Next chapter Gambit is back!_

**A Thief's Honour**

**Chapter 3****:** To Catch a Thief.

It had been weeks since the theft and Scott was still riled up about it. He just couldn't believe that someone would do something like that. He knew about the anti mutant groups, but he never thought they would have someone there to break into the highly secured area of the Mutant Research Centre. Or maybe it was a mutant. No, he couldn't understand why a mutant would want to have those files, save for Magneto. But Magneto hadn't been in the picture for a few years.

He stood in the center of his 'room' he shared with Jean, hands balled into fists. It was actually more an apartment, although he was inside the X-mansion.

He had become so frustrated about it, that he had to think about it every free moment of the day. He had to find the one that had so willingly taken all those files. And for what? Well, he could think of what, he had to admit. But he had so hoped that there could be something done to his powers, to control them, so that he could 'turn' them on and off when I wanted to.

"You are miles away, honey", he heard a female voice say and when he turned he looked into the eyes of his lovely girlfriend Jean. She smiled and kissed him once on the lips.

"Are you still so taken by the MRC?" She readjusted his shades a bit, and her fingers trailed down to his chin. She knew him so well.

He sighed; "Yes, it's just that they were so close to.."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But the Professor gave us his word that he will do the best he can, his utmost." She then hugged him softly. "And when the Professor gives us his word…"

"Yes, I know I know. But it keeps bothering me. Especially since there's not been a breakthrough and it's been weeks now!"

Jean looked thoughtful. "Well, now that you mention it… I didn't want to say it before, because I thought you would be upset."

"What…?" Scott held her at arms length. "What is it? Did you find something?"

Jean smiled. This was so unlike him, to be so anxious. She schooled her expression to a more serious one.

"The Professor has been on it, since the day it happened. And I have been helping him to locate any suspicious happenings, both mutant and human." She sat down on the couch that was not far from where she had been standing. Her red hair fell lightly down on the arm rests.

"At first, we had no idea where to go, because there was no trail we could follow. But Ororo has helped us the past few days. As you know she was once teamed up with a thief, before the Professor took her in. And…"

She was cut off by Scott, who unceremoniously sat down next to her, almost on top of her. Jean cleared her throat and continued.

"We found out that there's a Guild, somewhere in New York City. There is not much known about it. But, we have found out it's a guild for thieves. It's said that they have some mutant members. Of course that's not official."

If it were possible Scott's eyes bulged. "And you kept this from me, how?"

Jean smiled again. "Like, I said, I didn't want to upset you, because didn't find the thief yet. But we do have a lead. Ororo suggested we take a look there. Though she is no longer a child, and a thief, she does know some of the tricks. She might be able to get in…"

"I'm not really confident about how this could work," Scott interjected. "And even if she got in, how are we to know for sure that he's coming there. Or that he has a connection with that guild."

Jean looked thoughtful. "Well… she told me that a thief with such skills would be likely to hang around there, willingly, or maybe even unwillingly, to get new contracts and such. It's the only lead we have at this time. The Professor suspects this thief is a mutant. But, unfortunately, he has no arguments to back this up."

Scott sighed and sat back.

"Well, that's great…"

_To be continued..._


	4. Hiding in plain sight

_**AN:**__ Well, there it is. Gambit and Rogue's first meeting. Any comments and critiques are welcome.. I must thank everyone who has read and/or reviewed my story. I really appreciate it. Ideas and inspiration are slowly coming. Let's hope for the best._

_**ETA:**__ I seriously need a BETA reader. Anyone volunteering?_

**A Thief's Honour**

**Chapter 4****:** Hiding in Plain Sight.

_Merde__, it's hot!_ Gambit thought when he stepped out of the hotel doors. He never knew New York City could be this hot this time of year. But, he reasoned, global warming could make springs as warm as summer. He should've left his coat in his room. Though it was quiet in the alley, as he walked on the sidewalk, he could hear the motors and horns of the many people who were driving to and from work, or just driving. If only his own life could be so simple. Well, time for a drink. Something hard.

And thus he made his way to the nearest bar.

It was an old building, something you would expect in the fifties, with large neon letters fastened to the side of it. Inside was worse. All kinds of pictures from the 'old days' were decorating the walls. There was even a Rock & Roll type of jukebox, stuffed in a corner, playing outdated music. Gambit loved old rock music; he was brought up with it, but not this! Oh well, anything for a drink.

He sat down at the bar, motioning the bartender to come over and take his order. Then, after ordering, he lighted up a cigarette and looked around to see what kind of people visited at this time of day. Some old drunks sitting in one corner of the bar, something that looked like a transvestite, Gambit shuddered at the thought of wearing heels and a dress. His eyes wandered further and halted upon seeing a young girl that looked about 18, sitting all alone at a table near the window fiddling with a straw from her empty glass and occasionally peering outside. She looked anxious about something. Maybe her boyfriend had stood her up. The most distinguished feature was the white streak in her brown hair. The white locks hung around her almost angelic face.

He grinned and rose from the stool and made his way to her. She didn't see him coming and just stared out the window. He closed in from behind, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"Look pretty lonely there, Cherie."

The reaction he got from the girl was more violent than he expected, as she bolted out of the chair. He held up his hands as if saying, 'I surrender'.

"Don't do that!" she snapped and moved away from him. "Y'all startled me!" She had a thick Mississippian accent.

"Je suis desolé, ma cherie," he said, changing his approach from being flirty to apologetic. "Just noticed you there all alone. Girls like you shouldn't be here alone. Dangerous people here."

"Like you?"

"Touché!" he admitted.

"And Girls like me?" she narrowed her eyes, sitting back down slowly, almost cautiously.

Gambit couldn't help but smirk and stood on the other end of the table, leaning against it.

"'Course! Beautiful girls or better yet, women." He crossed his arms casually, gauging her reaction.

She returned hid words with a snort and the ends of her lips turned slightly upwards.

"So…" she trailed off. "Where do you think I should be, then?"

"Home, with mommy and daddy." A smug smile graced his face.

"Don't make fun of me, you swamp rat," She lashed back, sounding almost playfully.

Now, that got him a little offended, not too much though. "Swamp rat?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table, head in his hands. This girl was definitely something more than she at first had seemed. A bit young for him, but flirting never did any harm.

"Yeah," she continued, now smiling a little bit too. "The accent. You're definitely from the Bayou Country."

For the umpteenth time he smirked. Real smiling was just more trouble, smirks came naturally. "Good guess, chere."

Just in time the barman interrupted with his drink. He noticed she eyed his glass as she took a sip and put it down on the table.

"Isn't it a bit early to be drinkin'?" she wondered.

He just shrugged and glanced out the window for a moment, while considering his answer.

"Depends on the definition of early," he finally said, intentionally cryptic.

Now she was quiet. He guessed she probably didn't know what to say to that. He watched her fiddle with the gloves she wore and wondered why she was wearing them on a hot day like today.

"So…" he started again. "What's your name, Cherie?"

The girl looked up at him fast, too fast, almost as if startled. Then, she seemed to be considering and at length she answered.

"Rogue."

Typical, she'd picked a 'code name'. He had one too, but that name came from all the won games. The people started calling him Gambit after he took all their money at poker games.

As if he didn't hear her; "Come again?"

She repeated the name, and he leaned forward, chin resting on the inside of his right hand, while the other hand still held the glass.

"What's your name, Cherie?" he repeated his earlier question. When she opened her mouth to answer for the third time, obviously annoyed now, he interrupted her. "Your real name, Chere."

She snapped her jaws together and looked at him with renewed suspicion. Why was he asking her that? How dare he?!

"My name is Remy." He passively urged her to reveal her name. But she did seem to be a bit reluctant to give it away. _Maybe add a little charm to it,_ he thought with an inner smile.

He hated manipulating other people. It made him feel like an invader of some sort. He really wasn't that nosey, but sometimes it did get the better of him. He did like to play with the women, but never gave them more than a pinkie. He really didn't want to do things with women he (and they) would later regret. He never took that much advantage of them. Just for a fun night, and off to another town.

Then she whispered something. He couldn't make out what it was.

He arched an eyebrow. "Quoi, Chere?"

"Marie." Still soft, but he could definitely hear it.

"Tres belle, Marie. Now why'd ya hide behind that Rogue person, neh?" he asked, as sweetly as a cat with a trick up its sleeve.

She fiddled even more at that. It was obvious she wasn't ready to answer. He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, deciding it was enough for today. With one smooth move he stood up and put the glass, a little harder than intended, on table. Marie looked up from her hands to him, obviously startled this time.

"Don't think whoever you're waiting for is comin'. Best me taking you home myself."

"Oh no," she started to protest. "I can take the bus or somethin'. You don't have to. I mean, I, I…"

"But what if Remy want to? 'S not fair to leave a lady on her own like that." He didn't push, at least not actively. He waited patiently. Charms required patience. And patience Remy had.

Finally, he shoulders sagged a little and she nodded quietly. It wasn't like she didn't want to go with him, but did she trust him enough to let him take her home, to the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters? Well, he probably wouldn't have heard of it. He didn't seem like a man that watched much television, let alone went to school, much.

He had already walked to the door and held it open for her, like a true gentleman. Then he guided her down the street to his motorcycle. Her eyes bulged. Logan and Scott had never let her sit on their bikes, not even on the passenger seat.

Gambit was glad to see her eyes lit up when he handed her the helmet and took a seat himself in front of her.

"This gonna be the ride of your life, Chere. Hold on," he laughed as he sped onto the road.

_To be continued..._


End file.
